


A Promise Made

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at Jim after the incident at the fountain.  A Sentinel Too sequel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise Made

  warning: spoilers for Sentinel Too. Death story? Up to UPN.

  For Sherry. No, I'm not going to 'off myself' but thanks for caring.   
  And for my fellow festees, I love you all.   
    
  This probably won't make any sense. It's my own little cathartic   
  way of dealing with the finale.   
    
  Disclaimer: Characters are property of PetFly.   
  Song lyrics from 'Coming back to me' by Steve Porcaro   
  Used without permission. No infringement intended. 

  ------------------------------   
  

A Promise Made

by

Heapster

  I gave my heart away   
  I sold my soul for a promise made 

  Slamming the loft's door behide him, Jim dropped his keys on the   
  counter as he made his way to the refrigerator. Opening the door, he   
  grabbed a cold beer and viciously twisted it open. Tossing the cap   
  across the room, he drained half the bottle. He leaned back against   
  the sink rubbing the cold bottle over his forehead trying to soothe   
  the ache pounding in his temples. He glanced around the empty loft,   
  the only furniture was the futon he brought back up from the basement   
  and set up near the balcony glass doors. A Blair scented futon.   
  Jim closed his eyes in a rush of sickening despair and helplessness.   
  Bereft of his guide, the rooms echoed in haunting silence. 

  I put my trust in you 

  Most of his life he had been alone -- abandoning anyone who tried to   
  force their way past his protective barrier. His solitary nature   
  was honed out of sheer desperation. He would never leave himself open   
  again for the kind of pain he felt when his mother left. But somehow   
  he fucked up, his defenses tattered and torn. Love had found a way --   
  leaving its mark deeply embedded in his heart and imprinted on his soul. 

  It's all coming back to me   
  Every mistake I made   
  It's all coming back to me   
  The cost of love the price I paid 

  A crack of thunder startled him from his thoughts. The rain predicted   
  in the forecast had finally made an appearance. Good, let the sky   
  cry instead. He turned and made his way to the futon sloughing off   
  his clothes as he went. Naked, he settled deep into the cushions and   
  tilted his head back. He laid there for hours watching the shadows on   
  the wall lengthened. 

  The storm continued with an occasional flash of lightening followed   
  by a booming crash of thunder. A sudden gust of wind sent a sheet of   
  rain sluicing down the windows. Jim watched as a single rivulet   
  slowing dripped down the pane. He focused and pulled it into a   
  sentinel's sight. A swirling vortex formed on its shiny surface   
  creating tiny pinpoint stars. Mesmerized, he narrowed his focus and   
  saw minute iridescent prisms shimmering in the crystalline drop.   
  The whirling mass of rainbow images promised a thousand wishes fulfilled.   
  Finally, it lost momentum and the shattered spectrum of colors bled   
  together into a shapeless trickle leaving fragmented dreams in its wake. 

  A faint keening erupted from him and he shook his head to dial down   
  his vision. He took a deep breath and tried to release the pressure   
  burning in his throat. 

  "Blair", he whispered. The sound a melodious dance on his tongue. 

  Tilting the bottle of beer, he drained it hoping the bitter tang   
  would cauterize the taste of longing filling his mouth and wash it   
  away. He had saturated most of his senses on his friend but never   
  had he tasted what his sight, sound, smell, and touch feasted on.   
  He wanted to know if Blair tasted as good as the rest of his senses   
  promised. He wanted to bury his hands in the dark richness of Blair's   
  curls, stroke his chiseled cheekbones, inhale the ball-tightening spice   
  of Blair's skin as he plundered the soft lush mouth. With his fierce   
  sexual drive fueled by his sentinel sensitivity, it would take an   
  lifetime to quench his thirst. He thought he would have the time.   
  He never dreamt the only chance he would have to dip into that well   
  would be to share his life giving breath. 

  He sat up suddenly and threw the empty beer bottle against the wooden   
  support post in the middle of the room. The glass shattered and rained   
  down over him. He was out of control and he knew it. He rocked back   
  and forth to calm himself trying to use the breathing techniques Blair   
  taught him. What is a sentinel without the guidance of his shaman? 

  Some vows are bound to break 

  He brushed at the the few pieces of glass shards clinging to his   
  fingertips before gripping his bare knees. He curled his fingers   
  into misshapen claws and slowly raked them up his thighs digging   
  bloody furrows in his skin. Crimson beads welled up and dripped   
  fiery teardrops down between his legs shedding the tears he refused.   
  The physical pain did nothing to dispel the lonely ache gnawing   
  at him inside. 

  He leaned back against the rough material of the colorful throw   
  Blair had been so proud of, mingling his scent with that of his   
  guide's to create a new scent that drove shafts of agonized   
  longing through him. Heat pooled in his belly as blood rushed   
  to fill his cock. Hands shaking, he fisted the traitorous   
  erection and jerked on it in a mixture of anger and grief.   
  He couldn't dampened the flames of the inferno burning inside.   
  His body would climax but the need would never, could never be   
  satisfied. 

  He cloaked his agony around himself like a shroud, burying it deep   
  and forced his senses open flooding his system with the sorrow   
  of crystalline fire. Sensations burned out shattered pathways.   
  He couldn't breath through the intensity of the pain. 

  It was a sweet pain. It tasted of Blair. 

  The lessons that we learn too late   
  Can turn a tear to stone   
  Now that I'm all alone   
  -------------   
  the end 


End file.
